


Made For This

by Clockwork



Series: Training the Pet [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, sexual programming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 16:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1233436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockwork/pseuds/Clockwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moriarty's training of his pet comes to an end as he finds that Sherlock has become all he had hoped he would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Made For This

Time was running out for Moriarty. Eventually even the family’s desire to keep their secrets would not slow the good doctor down, and if he had to put his money on either Watson or Mycroft, he would certainly put his backing behind John. That meant it was time to step up his game. If he wanted to see the results he desired he was going to have to finish this off and send Sherlock home.

 

He wouldn’t admit to himself that if he didn’t finish this, he might well keep him until the drugs destroyed everything about Holmes that had drawn Moriarty to him. There would be no beauty in that, nothing he could hope to gain. That meant it was time to draw the game to a close and learn just how well Jim did at training his very first pet.

 

A flick of his switch and he turned on the monitor sitting on the corner of his desk. He had been there with Sherlock only two hours ago, assuring him that he was such a good boy.with a delicate, affectionate touch and the quick prick of a needle. 

 

Yet before he had gone, Sherlock had stopped Jim. He had asked him to stay, to give him a prick of another kind. That had been what Moriarty had been waiting for the entire time. It was the break he had needed.

 

And he had walked from the room with a smile and a laugh, not giving Sherlock anything of what he wanted. Not yet. Later, eventually, but not until he brought him to another level. Which was what drove his next actions.

 

Sliding his hand across the desk, he pushed two buttons . One to turn off the player in Sherlock’s room, the other to shut down the television completely. A moment before Sherlock had been yet again watching John’s intimate moments with Jim, and now he was plunged into silence, nothing left to watch. He started counted.

 

“One. Two.” He never made it to three. The intercom buzzed.

 

Again he began counting.

 

“One…”

 

The buzzer sounded once more.

 

Settling back in the plush leather of his chair, Moriarty pushed the comm button. 

 

“Yes, pet? What can I help you with?”

 

“The forced entertainment has ended. What is it you want now?”

 

He was quiet, waiting before answering. Counting down from ten. “Are you saying you don’t want it turned off?”

 

“That isn’t what I asked.”

 

Jim smiled.

 

“I’m asking you a question, pet. What is it you want? Didn’t you want it turned off?”

 

Silence crackled over the airwaves. Nothing at all coming from Holmes. 

 

“I want my fix,” he said at length. 

 

Jim tsked. “That’s not what I asked you,” he pointed out, amused though at how hard he was still trying to skirt around what he wanted. Moriarty knew though. Now all he needed was for Sherlock to accept and embrace what he truly wanted. The things that Jim had programmed him to want above all else. It wasn’t about the drug. That had never been the goal. Not for Jim.

 

“This has nothing to do with the fix. You never know. You might be able to get it without the video. The question isn’t do you want your fix or not. We all know you want that. Do you want the movie to resume though? Do you want to continue listening to your darling doctor enjoying himself with me? When you answer those questions, then we’ll talk about what comes next. “

 

Once more there was nothing but silence. 

 

“If that’s your finally decisiont then, pet, I’m done with conversing with you.”

 

He reached for the communications button. This time he didn’t even bother to count.

 

“Wait. Stop. I…” 

 

Jim leaned closer, listening to the sound of the bed rustling, of Sherlock moving. He could only imagine him laying there, still naked, emaciated and his cock shrunk in disappointment. He didn’t need a video of him at this point, he could see it in his head, in his mind. That was all he needed.

 

“I want him.”

 

The admission came in a low, rough voice. It was more than Jim had asked for if he was honest about it. He’d admitted more than wanting the video, he was exactly where Jim wanted him to be and Moriarty hadn’t even realized that Holmes had come this far. In one fell swoop, merely by shutting down the video feed, Jim had gotten everything he’d wanted. Therefor he would ignore the tightness in his chest at receiving all he had spent months working for.

 

“That, my pet, is all I’ve wanted to hear. Give me tonight and you will have him by the weekend. Everything I want and you can have him back. Do we have a deal?”

 

This time there was no hesitation. “Tonight then.”

 

His greatest game was coming to a culmination, and Jim wasn’t going to think about what would come next. He hadn’t let him think about that, about whatever might come next. All he was thinking about was that night.

 

Leaving Moran to see to his guest, Jim took several hours preparing for the night. A long bath, the right suit. He had one chance to make a lasting impression on the man who he would be returning to his home by the end of the week. He’d shown him one side, now to show him another. 

 

***

 

Sherlock was waiting for Jim when he arrived. Dressed in a suit tailored to fit his sleeker frame, he fidgeted nervously in the chair, rubbing at his wrists and entirely confused by the way he was left to his own devices, unbound after so long. 

 

His pale, watery gaze rose as Jim entered the room.

 

“I am assuming you want me to service you once last time? How do you want it?”

 

His words were soft and hollow though Jim was glad to hear that the arrogance was still there though. He wasn’t even sure what he would have done if he’d broken him of that. It would do no good if he didn’t have that as well. What was the point of breaking him if he wasn’t at least slightly aware of how badly he’d been broken. 

 

“Do you remember what you told me when I asked you when you wanted the video turned back on?” 

 

Slipping closer, he moved to sit down at the table, taking the chair across from Holmes.

 

“I told you yes, I wanted it on.”

 

“No, actually you didn’t,’ he noted, shaking his head. “You said nothing about the video, pet. What you told me was that you wanted him. See, that’s what I’ve been offering you all along, pet. A way to be free from all you’ve denied yourself. I brought you here so that I could give you the one thing you’ve ever wanted, and all you’ve denied yourself.”

 

That answer, one that was more than truthful, if he was honest about it, meant that he was offering the consulting detective all the answers he needed to the puzzle. Yet his senses were so dulled he would never figure it out. Not on his own. Maybe in a few months, after he had been back with Watson a while, then perhaps he would understand. For now he only stared at him, blind to the truth and utterly confused. 

 

“What did you want this night for then?”

 

“Because I wanted to see what you would do on your own, without cuffs or control.” With that his hand dipped into his pocket, pulling out the syringe pouch, tossing it onto the table. “Those will get through the week. No videos. No man of mine. Nothing but you and me tonight, and then by Saturday you will be home. That only leaves you one thing. What do you want here and now?”

 

It was the million dollar question. If he has done his job right, if he’s trained his pet right, then what will come next will be the acts of a man out of desire and not desperation. If he’s been right. 

 

Sherlock’s legs hit the floor with a sharp crack as he moved to crawl around the table to kneel at Jim’s feet.

 

“You,’ he murmured, fingers steady as they worked the fly on Jim’s trousers open. “I just want you tonight.”

 

There was no hesitation as there had been in weeks past. Just the rough rasp of his dry lips, the warm heat of his mouth. Eager sucklings as nimble fingers worked to do one things. Bring Jim pleasure for one last time, voluntary and because it was all he wanted. 

 

“That’s a good boy, pet,” he whispered, stroking his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. “I knew you were made for this.”


End file.
